After all…
Love is Spell.
Content Warning
This story features contents of blood, hexes, and mild spice.
Please be advised and read at your own risk.
Dakota
Lights along the corridors of the old church are flickering.
On.
Off.
On.
There’s a man hurrying down the stone hallway. It feels cold, damp, and an earthy smell that causes me to gag from where I stand.
I know I’m asleep, this has to be a dream. Yet why does it feel familiar? As if I recognize this place, and this man. Yet I don’t recall having ever met him, nor can I see what he’s carrying in his arms. It looks like a person, but I could be wrong.
Off.
On.
Spying him from a distance, he’s a dark silhouette against the flickering lights; but he’s older than a teenager. He has to be in his mid-twenties to early thirties.
My body angles to the right as I stand in an outlined doorway, able to see through a transparent wall. As if somehow the dream is telling me that I need to see this. ThatI need to find the man, to tell him what is happening or what might happen to him in the near future.
Off.
On.
Two older women are chanting loudly in a foreign language I’ve never heard before. Their voices in unison are echoing off of the otherwise empty corridor. They hold up their arms, hands glowing red against the dark, lighting up the profile of the man.
His face turns, his dark eyes wide as he stumbles forward. His head whipping back to face forward as he loses his grip on whatever he’s holding. He calls for a name that seems to blur out like a faded song.
Another woman is racing down the corridor, her hands glowing a vibrant green behind the other two women. Her voice is louder, but she’s shouting the man’s name. “Maximilian!”
I jerk awake with a start, sitting up gasping for breath. The dream always feel so colorful, soreal. Sweat beads against my brow and I have to wrestle the sticky sheets away from my body. My gaze lands on the closed door. I take several deep breaths, shutting my eyes against the migraine that normally accompanies the dream.
Every night, for the past several months, the same dream haunts my subconscious. Tomorrow, is the first time that I will have finally found the man that has been plaguing my dreams— I need to warn him, if I don’t, I feel as if something terrible is going to happen to him— and to me.
“We have a new student joining us, let’s give a big welcome to our new sister; Dakota Mitchell.”
The center of attention is solely focused on me and let’s be real— I’ve never been one for the spotlight and with the last couple of years this ought to be a walk in the park to what I’ve had to deal with— yet it’s been getting worst lately. The attention, the spotlight, the pressure, it’s all building up and one day I’m going to explode.
Only eighteen, and I’ve already been to multiple schools—public and private across the United States. I hate it and this private Catholic church is all that’s left to me. But it’s where my search ends. Because I’ve found him— the man whose been plaguing my mind for the past couple of years now. I needed to find him and now I have.
I blink several times as the applauding stops and I take a seat near the back of the classroom. My ears feel warm. I try to sink lower in my seat. Immediately as the bell signals for homeroom to begin, four students have all but swarmed near my chair.
Three girls and one boy. I ought to be impressed that they’ve already spouted off their names, but they’re all a blur. I’m not here to socialize or make friends— all I want is to find the man, because he’s all that matters at this moment in time, nothing else.
“Hi!” A perky brunette is all but waving a hand across my face. I blink again and give what I hope is an awkward smile. But to be fair, I’m not really interested. “I’m Faith, this is Kendra,” she’s nudging a dark haired girl to her left, “Gertrude,” she nods her chin to her right where a redhead stands, “And this is Alexander.”
“Alex, I prefer Alex.” He says with a sheepish grin.